First Kisses
by simplyshelbs16
Summary: A collection of ficlets that experiment with alternate Sherlolly first kisses.
1. A Beautiful Accident

**A Beautiful Accident**

* * *

"I can't believe you," Molly said, attempting to be stern but ended up giggling. "Texting during Rosie's christening."

"Crime stops for no one, Molly, you know that," Sherlock replied. She only rolled her eyes at him.

"Molly, do you need a ride home?" Mary asked as she approached them, Rosie in her arms.

"Oh I—" Molly started.

"I'll get her a cab home," Sherlock interrupted. Mary had a look of satisfaction cross her face.

"Very well, then," she told them. "I'll see you tomorrow, Molly?"

"Yes, of course!" Molly answered with a smile. Sherlock kept glancing over at her; he couldn't help but take in the flattering dress on her petite figure with her hair done up beautifully. There was a sudden aching in his heart. Most would accept it as yearning but not Sherlock Holmes; he refused to acknowledge it. He couldn't acknowledge it. The work was all there was. That's all.

* * *

"You're gonna pay for my fare? You don't have to," Molly spoke softly. They were both in the backseat of the cab en route to her flat.

"It's no problem," Sherlock replied. "After all, it's the least I can do." Their eyes met, sparks flying. One was acknowledging it and the other was desperately trying to deny it. The driver took a sharp turn too fast and suddenly their lips were connected for a brief three seconds, but it was everything. Sherlock felt like he was engulfed in flames, the warmth from feeling Molly's lips on his spreading like wildfire. He could no longer deny it. He loved her.

They stared at each other, unable to say a word until both of them arched their eyebrows in question. As an answer to the same question they asked one another, they nodded. Sherlock didn't waste time to envelop her lips with his own, feeling her, tasting her. It was heaven if he ever believed in such a thing. Molly swept her tongue along his bottom lip resulting in a most pleasing noise from Sherlock. He allowed her entrance as they explored each other. He tasted better than she could ever imagine. Her fingers wound themselves in his curls and his hands caressed her face. Neither were aware of the world around them; Sherlock's mind was silenced completely for the first time. He felt at peace with her.

"Are you two getting out?" the driver asked. They separated, a blush encompassing Molly's cheeks.

"Um, so, I should go," she spoke breathlessly. Sherlock wasn't ready to let her go yet.

"May I come in? I think I'll need my favourite bolthole tonight," he told her in a gentle tone. The slight nod of her head was all he needed before they exited the cab. Sherlock haphazardly threw a wad of notes to the driver, eager to follow Molly inside. She took his hand, disappearing through the door, ready to satisfy their curiosity in their newfound relationship. As far as accidents went, this was by far their favourite.


	2. Good To Be Alive

Sherlock was utterly thankful that his exile only lasted four minutes. After the briefing with the literal British government, the first thing he needed to do was check on Molly after the Moriarty takeover. Obviously, it was impossible for the napoleon of crime to be alive, but surely, Molly had been shaken up by the sudden appearance of him.

She was working today, his home away from home. He found her in her office with stacks of paperwork covering her desk. Molly was in distress to say the least; Sherlock was gone, possibly for good, and Moriarty shows his face again. When she turned to see the consulting detective standing in the doorway, Molly threw all caution to the wind and snogged him. She showered him with kisses from his lips to his cheeks, nose and forehead.

"How dare you!?" she shouted, pushing against his shoulder. Sherlock was confused by her contradicting actions. "All you left me was a bloody letter, only confessing your 'undying love' for me when you knew you wouldn't be coming back from that mission! How could you!?" Tears sprang from her eyes out of frustration.

"I'm a total git," was all he said, finally realizing why she was so upset. "I am so sorry I didn't tell you before, Molly."

"How are you even here right now?" her voice softened, tears still streaming down her flushed cheeks. Sherlock stepped closer to her and wiped them away with the pads of his thumbs before hugging her to him.

"It seems I have Moriarty to thank," he told her. "Were you frightened?"

"A bit, yeah," Molly admitted. Sherlock pressed a kiss to the top of her head.

"There's nothing to worry about; he can't hurt you. Even if he could, I wouldn't let him," Sherlock assured her.

"I know," Molly spoke quietly.

"Are you still cross with me?" he asked.

"A bit," she sniffed. "But I'll get over it. I'm just happy you're alive."

"Me too, Molly," he told her. And he most definitely was.


	3. Twinkling Lights

"Merry Christmas, Molly Hooper," he says softly before his lips caress her cheek. Molly feels stunned at his sudden gesture. _The twinkling lights light up her face beautifully_ , he thought. Sherlock pulls back just for a moment before pressing his lips to hers, leaving them both breathless. A faint camera shutter sound is heard but ignored as he continues to kiss her. He never knew how wonderful this could be; allowing himself to let go and give his love to her.

Her lips move with his once the initial shock wore off; tasting, nipping, licking. She squeaked in surprise when he slid his tongue between her lips, tangling with hers. If there was anyone else in the room, neither could be bothered to remember. Sherlock pulled her tighter into his arms as her hands moved to his cheek and in his curls, respectively. A cough suspiciously sounding from John broke them apart. Breathless and flushed, they both realized they were not alone.

"Right, well, I have documentation of this now," Greg stated smugly, showing off the photo he took of Sherlock and Molly snogging each other senselessly. "It's about time you get your head out of your arse."

* * *

 _Three years later_

"I got this photo here; first time they ever kissed," Greg mused, showing off the picture to Sherlock's parents. The bride and groom were still dancing, unable to take their eyes off of one another.

"I love you, Molly Holmes," Sherlock whispered to her. He brought his lips down to the spot just below her ear that sent shivers down her spine.

"I love you too," she spoke breathily. They shared a kiss just as passionate as their first and everyone laughed when they saw Sherlock lift her in his arms and carry her away from the reception.

"Guess that didn't take long," John chuckled.


	4. CPR Lessons

**this is a bit of a crack!fic take on their first kiss lol**

* * *

"Have you seen Molly?" Mary asked her new husband as they danced at their reception.

"She was with Tom wasn't she?" he asked in return.

"Mm, can't find Tom either…hey, where's Sherlock?" she noticed. They looked around and finally decided to walk outside for some fresh air and to search for their friends. A man with curly hair had Molly up against the wall of the building, snogging her senselessly. With a moment to adjust their eyes, they found it to be…

"Sherlock!?" both Watsons shouted; one with total shock and the other with a hint of pride in her voice. The consulting detective stepped away, revealing a flushed Molly Hooper.

"It was a CPR lesson!" Sherlock and Molly both shouted frantically.

"Sure it was," Mary smirked. "And where's Tom?"

"Um, well, I didn't really want CPR lessons from him…anymore," Molly answered nervously. She had broken up with him earlier in the reception before going after Sherlock.

"Right," John commented, getting the picture.

"Come on, husband, let the kids have their moment," Mary teased, leading John back inside the reception hall.

"Do you think they bought it?" Sherlock asked.

"Seriously, Sherlock? Highly doubtful," Molly laughed. The silence was a bit awkward, as Sherlock actually seemed nervous.

"May I kiss you again?" he inquired, his voice soft.

"Get over here and kiss me, you silly man," she smiled, pulling him to her by the collar of his coat, their lips meeting once more.


End file.
